


I Could Join The Circus

by allfifteenknuckles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfifteenknuckles/pseuds/allfifteenknuckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She flips her pocketknife open and close, and open and close. It has her mother's name engraved on it. It was supposed to protect her. Funny, that didn't work out well for her mother, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Join The Circus

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to write something that belongs to Mandy

Her mother used to tell her, "as long as your heart is pure, He'll listen." She doesn't believe in God. Not really. But sometimes, when she's desperate, she'll put her hands together and beg in her whispers because _someone's_ got to be out there listening. Someone _has_ to care.

She hates putting blame on others. Her actions belong to _her_.

"Don't look at me like that, Ian," Mandy scowls at him. "Don't need _your_ fucking pity." It's true. She doesn’t. This kid in front of her can't seem to get a handle on his _own_ problems, so he has no fucking right to think he can fix hers. She used to think he could take her away, shield her from her horrors, but she's not that naïve anymore. He's a reckless teenager, and he is just as lost as she is.

She flips her pocketknife open and close, and open and close. It has her mother's name engraved on it. It was supposed to protect her. Funny, that didn't work out well for her mother, either.

"Touch me. Just try. I'll cut your cock off, shove it in a blender, and make you chug it till you choke," she snarls at Kenyatta. And he's big and intimidating and she _really_ should not be taunting him. It never ends well for her.

But he's been restraining himself. She can see from the way his tendons strain on his neck, the way his upper lip curls in fury, and the way his hands coil into fists. He won't hit her, though. He doesn’t want to give her a reason to stay in Southside. He wants her to come with him.

Did she ever even have a chance? Of course she did. She is _not_ her situation. 

Her brother is careful with her. As if sharp words might just remove the stitches and open her old wounds. Maybe he doesn't want to hear about her. Maybe he wants to. He doesn’t want her blood on his hands, but he doesn’t know how to fix her. He's a kid too, and he shouldn’t have to. She understands the need to look after yourself. To put yourself first. She doesn’t blame him for putting Ian before her (Maybe sometimes she does).

"Stop _worrying_ so much. Things are good. They're fine," she tries to tell Mickey with conviction. Even if they aren't fine, they _will_ be. 

She watches the way Mickey's eyes just soften the moment he notices Ian. She watches the way Ian curls around Mickey, completely comforted by his presence. She doesn't belong here anymore. Sometimes she's bitter, and sometimes she wonders if they'll forget her when she leaves.

Maybe it's karma. She can see that. Or maybe it's just Newton. _Every action has an equal an opposite reaction._ She's done bad things. But hasn't her broken heart (or even her broken face) paid enough?

She loved Lip. Or she loved the idea of Lip. She doesn’t even know. But then again, who can blame her. Who doesn’t crave safety? Especially when you grow up the way they did. But she's not delusional. She's a fucking doormat to him, and she deserves better. She _does_.

She can have a warm smile and a big heart. But it doesn't do much good in the real world.

Jen is old enough to make it seem like she knows what the world is about. She smells like the diner and when she smiles, her eyes wrinkle, and it just comforts Mandy. Jen is warm and sweet, but if anyone gets near her stove, she won't hesitate to whack you with her ladle.

"You can't run when you're dead, kid," Jen tries to reason with her.

And it sounds like ominous words of wisdom, and Mandy knows that she should be smart. Take her advice. And Jen promised her a job. It paid less and she'd have to prove herself but she would get out. And Katya mentioned a ride. She could run. There was nothing left here for her anyways.

She has some money saved up from the diner. In case Kenyatta hit her again; she would have to fund her own hospital expenses. But it could be put to _better_ use. 

Hers might be a dark, twisted road. But she'll figure it out herself. She was nobody's fucking tragedy and her story was going to be written by her.

She is going to run.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to throw apples (or roses) at me, come find me at [allfifteenknuckles.tumblr.com](http://allfifteenknuckles.tumblr.com)


End file.
